Forbidden Milk

**Chapter 1: Midnight Cravings**

The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the nursery window, casting a silver sheen over Yağmur as she cradled little Atlas in her arms. The infant suckled hungrily at her breast, his tiny hands clutching at her skin with a desperate tenderness. Yağmur, a woman of striking beauty with sharp eyes and a fiercer spirit, sat poised in the rocking chair, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder like a silken curtain. She was no stranger to hardship, and taking on the role of wet nurse for Kenan’s son was just another battle she’d chosen to fight.

The door creaked softly, and her gaze flicked up, catching Kenan’s silhouette in the dim light. He looked worn, the weight of his wife’s abandonment etched into the lines of his face. His broad shoulders slumped as he stepped into the room, his eyes lingering on the intimate scene before him. Yağmur didn’t flinch or cover herself; she met his stare with a quiet intensity, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Couldn’t sleep, Kenan?” she asked, her voice a low, teasing purr that cut through the silence. “Or are you just here to check if I’m stealing your son’s milk for myself?”

Kenan chuckled, a rough, gravelly sound, as he dragged a hand through his tousled hair. He moved closer, sinking into the chair beside her, his gaze fixed on Atlas. “You’ve got a mouth on you, Yağmur. Most women would blush having a man walk in on this.”

“Most women aren’t me,” she shot back, arching a brow as she adjusted Atlas against her chest. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Question is, can you handle what you’re seeing?”

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Careful, Yağmur. You’re playing with fire, talking like that.”

She laughed softly, the sound rich and unapologetic. “Oh, Kenan, I don’t play. I ignite. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Her words hung heavy in the air, charged with a tension that neither could ignore.

Atlas, sated at last, let out a tiny sigh, and Yağmur gently eased him away from her breast, her movements deliberate as she covered herself with a thin shawl. She stood, cradling the boy, and glanced at Kenan with a wicked glint in her eye. “I’ll put him down. Try not to combust while I’m gone.”

Kenan’s jaw tightened, but a smirk tugged at his lips. “I’ll manage. Barely.”

She returned moments later, her presence filling the room as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her curves barely concealed by the loose fabric of her nightdress. Kenan’s eyes roamed over her, unashamed, and she noticed. Of course she did.

“Got something on your mind, Kenan?” she asked, her tone dripping with challenge. “Or are you just gonna sit there staring like a starving man at a feast?”

He stood, closing the distance between them in two long strides, his breath hot against her ear as he murmured, “You’ve got no idea what I’m starving for, Yağmur. But I’m damn curious about the taste of something… forbidden.”

Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips brushing the edge of his jaw as she whispered, “Then take a sip, Kenan. I dare you.”

His hands found her waist, pulling her against him, the heat of his body igniting a fire in her core. She could feel him, hard and insistent, pressing against her, and a wicked grin spread across her face. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she dragged him closer, their lips crashing together in a hungry, desperate kiss. The taste of him was raw, untamed, and she wanted more—wanted to feel his cock against her, to drive him wild until he was panting and sweating beneath her.

She pushed him back toward the chair, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the tension in every muscle. “You’ve been holding back too long,” she growled, her voice thick with desire. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

His groan was primal as she straddled him, her wet heat teasing him through the thin barrier of fabric, promising an explosion of pleasure that neither could resist…